


Rent

by Microdigitalwaker



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Sex, Disassociation, Facials, M/M, Oral Sex, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-04 08:39:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11551569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Microdigitalwaker/pseuds/Microdigitalwaker
Summary: Dennis Reynolds is a prostitute.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SubwayWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubwayWolf/gifts).



> Part of a fic trade with Subwaywolf! Enjoy!

 

The Rainbow's door swings open, an eddy of snowflakes swirling in the newcomer's wake. Dennis Reynolds, wearing just his most flattering pair of jeans and a tight black tank top that does wonders for his arms, takes a sip of stolen beer and shivers.  

The newest arrival is short and blond, not the muscular guy with the greased back hair that Dennis is counting on.  A guy called Mac, though Dennis has never know clients to give their actual name.  To be fair, the guy does actually looks like a Mac though he's probably named something stupid, like Lloyd or Herbert or Ronald. 

Mac is a low rent kind of guy, with his cheap blue Dickeys and his laughable tattoos; once upon a time, Dennis wouldn't have stooped that low unless drunk and slumming. Now he doesnt have much of a choice in the matter, not if he wants some folding green, a thin barrier to keep the wolf from the door.  And besides, this Mac has always been clean and fast, easy to take care of with a minimum of fuss.  

Maybe, though he wouldn't have admitted in court, Dennis likes the pitiful, grateful way that Mac looks at him, plain to see even in the dark of the alley outside the Rainbow.

Stubbing out his stale cigarette, Dennis exhales a thick plume of smoke as he dreamily recalls their first meeting.

*

" _You, uh, working?"_

_Dennis blinks, stubbing out his cigarette. He takes a long sip of beer as he appraises the boy shifting nervously from foot to foot in front of him. No, not a boy though he could be excused for thinking so; the guy has huge doe eyes and a sweet cherub's mouth.  On closer inspection, he is about Dennis's age, strictly blue collar pretty. It didn't really matter, not when there's  money to be made._

_Dennis nods._

_The guy pulls out a wad of money, which Dennis shoves back, hissing, "Fuck!  Not here!"  Already regretting it, he hops from the bar stool and heads for the back door, not bothering to see if he's being followed._

_Choosing a shadowy  corner near the dumpster, Dennis kneels after the fifty bucks are safely tucked in the hidden pocket of his jeans._

_"I'm Mac, by the way," the guy says though why, Dennis can't imagine._

_Dennis answers by working his zipper down, freeing Mac's thick, dark cock.  It looks clean and tastes even better, salty with a hint of cheap soap, maybe Ivory or Irish Spring. Dennis bobs his head, flicking his tongue against the frenulum as he enjoys Mac's soft moans and curses.  He rests his hands on his sturdy thighs, enjoying the feel muscles clenching.  Dennis relaxes his tbroat, taking tbe dick deep, to t_ _he root._

 _A_ _sharp whine pierces the otherwise still air as heedless to.Dennis's teeth, Mac pulls free and thick jets of his hot come splatter Dennis's perfect cheekbones, his classic nose and masterful chin._

_"Fucking hell!"  Dennis shrieks, high pitched enough to annoy him if it wasn't for the fact that his perfectly applied (shoplifted) foundation was ruined._

_He stunbles to his feet ready to slap the stranger, who is saying_ _"I'm sorry," chanting like an alter boy servng Mass.  Mac catches Dennis's hand, pushing him against the damp brick wall.  "Hold on," he demands, whipping off his green muscle shirt, which he uses to wipe the dripping ejaculate.  He does it tenderly, carefully chasing every rivulet until Dennis is clean._

_It's not enough to mollify Dennis nor is the extra twenty dollar bill. No, neither of these things are enough and Dennis is ready to hold a grudge until Mac takes a step back, eyes shining, and says, "Beautiful."_

_Beautiful, spoken softly and prayerful, as though this Mac had figured out something that had eluded the rest of the population, recognizing that Dennis is indeed a god and by definition, worthy of woship._

_Dennis releases his pent up rage with a pleasant smile, resting his hand briefly against the back of Mac's neck.  "No problem, man."_

 

***

 

It's cold, too damn cold and the bar is filled with bright lights and drunken men wearing hideous sweaters, singing songs together though a reason for such headache-inducing frivolity eludes Dennis.  He stubs his cigarette and draims the beer he's  been nursing this past hour or maybe longer.  He traces a letter on the bar's surface, a 'D' and he blinks back tears wondering what good is it, being a god, if those whom you've lost can't be....returned.....

.........

......it's so fucking cold, his knees are soaked through with dirty ice and Dennis can'tstop shaking.  He drains the whiskey in front of him, a drink he can't remember ordering - anything to chase away the funky taste in his mouth....it's almost like he's swallowed a load....  

Dennis lights his last cigarette. He stares at the brilliant red tip for a moment before putting it out, pressing it against the pale skin of his wrist just long enough to regain his sense of self.

The bar door opens again, a fact that Dennis barely registers. It's not until a warm hand brushes against his clammy bicep that Dennis spins around to find Mac there, pink cheeked and grinning. 


	2. Chapter 2

"Merry Christmas!"

Dennis blinks, relieved to finally get what the fuss with the lights and the music is all about.

Mac frowns, pulling off his black leather duster, revealing a perfectly pressed police sergeant's uniform.  "You're like ice!"

Dennis takes a step backward. "Jesus, you're a cop?"

Mac laughs. "It was either this or become a priest"  

Mac must see the naked emotions playing across Dennis's chiseled features now that his 'mask' has slipped. He pulls Dennis closer. "My dad is in prison for dealing drugs; hurt a lot of people along the way. I wanted to be different."

Light headed and starting to hyperventilate, Dennis is close to collapse because he can't conjure away the image of Dee slumped beside him, a needle still inserted in her vein.  They had drawn similar doses from the same vial but for Dee, light as a bird, had succumbed.   'Yeah, man. Ah, drugs are bad news."  

Trying to sync his breathing to Mac's, Dennis fumbles with the offered duster, which smells like Mac: two cbeap colognes mixed witb body sweat and spilled beers.  It is heavy on Dennis's shoulders and so warm. 

"Thanks."

Mac places his arm around Dennis, resting his hand on his hip. Their bodies are flush together, Mac taking on most of Dennis's weight until the shivering finally quits. 

"Bars about to close, Den.  Come home with me?"

Dennis shakes his head, an automatic motion; no mixing personal with business.

"Gotta get back to my place," he replies, almost slurring his words because he's so damned tired.

Mac frowns.  "I've seen where you sleep, man. Not good when we're expecting more inches of snow before dawn."

Dennis wants to look offended.  A Range Rover is a perfect all weather vehicle, even if the tires have been stripped and the panels are more rust than Eddie Bauer special edition green.

Mac tucks a wad of bills in Dennis hand and now Dennis can say, "Yes" because now he has an excuse because what sort pf pussy bitch wants a warm, soft bed and a warm, soft man sleeping beside him?

Before he can say anything, Mac blushes, ready to up the ante.

"Charlie, he's my roommate , see, and he's bangimging this waitress and they are in Scranton, visiting her folks.  And look what i got from my Secret Santa!"

He holds out a beribboned dvd, the newly released, extended, unrated version of Thunder Gun Express.

 "You know Thunder Gun's motto, right?  'No hesitation. No Surrender. N....'"

"'No man left behind," Dennis finishes, a smiles teitching the corners of his lips.  He takes Mac's proferred arm and they head for the home.  "I heard there's 4 extra seconds of dong."

Stepping into the nascent blizzard, Mac clears his throat.  "You know, I think Charlie's gonna move in with his girl and I'll be needing a new roommate."

If Dennis accepts, he'll probably need to stop turning tricks and becoming a  human popsicle would surely ruin his beloved Range Rover's upbolstery.

"Don't know if I can make rent," Dennis says wearily, shuffling his feet in the muffling blanket of snow.

Mac thinks a minute, then steadies his hands on the lapels of the duster..Slowly, so that neither of them bolts, he kisses Dennis, something that's never been lowed but now...things are different.  

"Don't worry," Mac whispers, holding still as Dennis kisses back.  "We'll work something out."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third but not final chapter.

The apartment is in a sketchy neighborhood but a step up from the spot under the bridge where Dennis's Range Rover haf foundered months before.

A one bedroom, the apartment is tidy except for the friendly jumble of music keyboards in one corner of the living room and a small shrine of karate trophies in the other. Dennis takes a step towards that corner and finds he's guessed correctly as he picks Mac's face in a group shot of '2016 Philedelphia Finalists'. He shivers as warm lips press against his shoulder. He tries not to pull away; instincts honed by self-preservation are hard to break and he wasn't a cuddler to begin with.  He feels Mac's boner, hard against his ass and feels, really feels something more than apathy.  Dennis may have been raised on coq au vin but now he's getting hungry for some authentic Phillie cheese steak.

 _Starving_.

*

The bed is California king, heaven for someone who sleeps in his SUV and turns tricks on his knees in dank bathrooms and dark alleys.  Dennis has fucked someone (or been fucked) since before he became a professional but if he is going yo let doen his guard it might as well be on a bed like this and with a guy, a good guy like Mac.

Feeling oddly shy, Dennis glances around the room as he strips, not wanting to meet eyes with Mac just yet.  There are two dressers, one on either side of the bed.  Mac's is bare except for an exceptionally graphic crucifix that's about two  feet high and enough to give anyone nightmares despite Jesus's tight, swimmer's bod.

Mac is having trouble witb his buttons, the tips of his ears practically glowing bright red.  "I could turn him around?"

Dennis shakes his head.  He always liked an audience.

Judging by the neat pyramid of unopened cat good cans, the dresser next to Dennis is owned either by a man who craves nightly snacks of faux tuna or by a man who commands an unholy army of feline warriors.  Perhaps both? 

Amused, he glances back across tbe bed, enjoying the definition of Mac's back muscles, the 'v' of his waist leading to a pair of buttocks that might have made Michelangelo weep.  Mac turns down the linens, patting the bed,  an invitation Dennis accepts with giddy relief; his Range Rover Evoque may have ample leg room but but his back is screaming for the superior lumbar support of an expensive  mattress.  He arranges  his body to its  most attractive advantage.

Mac removes his holstered uniform belt and whistles.  "Wow!  Didn't expect you to be bald down there!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: a brief bible quote

As exhausted as he is, Dennis flinches, tucking his genitals as he swings his legs off the edge of the bed. His ego is wounded by Mac's thoughtless observation (because Dennis's scrotum isn't bald, it's sleek, some could say aerodynamic), Dennis's fligbt is stopped short.

"Woah, dude! What's wrong?" Mac's eyes match his voice, soft and worried and so sweet it could make your teeth hurt. Dennis sniffles, the back of his hand rubbed black with running mascara.

_Damned rain._

  
"Next thing you'll say is how my balls look funny," Dennis accuses petulantly, his bottom lip trembling.

"Let's have a look," Mac replies cheerfully as he gently eases Dennis onto his bacm, carefully cradling his left leg so that Dennis is spread wide.

Mac licks his lips. "Looks good to me, though these are the first I've gotten a really good look at."

Dennis's jaw drops. "In person, I mean. Not like in pornos," adds Mac hastily, a blush rising.

It's a good look for the guy, Dennis thinks as he asks the obvious question, nodding to the closest dresser.  "What about your boyfriend?"

"Charlie?"  Mac flops down beside Dennis,  scooting so that he's between his legs, eye level to the objects in question.  "Nah, bro. Charlie is like a brother to me.  Known him since kindergarten.  Besides,"  he adds mattsr of factly, "He doesn't have balls."

Dennis arches an elegantly plucked eyebrow.  "Cancer?"

Mac shakes his head.  "Let's just say that when we first met, his name was Charlize."

"Your roommates's a tranny?" 

Mac smacks Dennis's knee. "Transexual, bro. Don't be rude."  

"Sorry."

Mac shyly kisses Dennis's knee. "You especially need to watch it when you meet him. For a little guy,  Charlie is all dude and he's hella feisty. He don't put up with shit!"

Feeling warm inside, _must be the furnace_ , Dennis thinks he'd like to meet Charlie, who sounds like one if those scrappy little terriers, the kind they used to catch rats. The tiny dogs with hearts of gold....

"Anyway," Mac continues, "Charlie's had a real rough time growing up."  Mac sees the look Dennis makes and shakes his head. "No, a _really_ rough time.  Doesn't sleep so good unless he's got company. Night terrors," he adds with a shudder.

"I know how he feels."

Mac kisses Dennis again, higher up on the thigh.  "Figured as much."

"So, my balls," says Dennis  spreading his legs wider. "They look okay?"

He holds his breath, expecting the worst.  

Mac wiggles closer, his hot breath warming Dennis to the core as he caresses them.

"Dude, your balls totally rule!"

Dennis isn't expecting to get hard. Not so soon, anyway.  Not without touching himself. If he tries, it's like he can get in Mac's skin and looking through Mac's eyes is even better than looking in a mirror.  It's a revelation.

Mac starts licking.

That's a revelation,  too because he can't remember the last time someone has been so clearly focused on his pleasure. Not since he's become a professional, maybe not even before.

"This good?" 

Dennis stretches his legs, locking his knees as his hips thrust. "Baby boy, you're doing great!  Where's the lube?"

"To the right, top drawer,."

Mac's bedside table is cluttered but Dennis finds a nearly full bottle near the top, next to a packet of Kleenex.  He winces; the lube is cheap and terrible for one's  complexion but will do in a pinch.  He squirts his fingers,  ready to put on a little  show.

"Damn, I could nut just watching you," Mac proclaims as his eyes follow Dennis's fingers as they work in and out of his pretty bleached anus.  Mac's excitement feels so good, almost as good as Dennis's fingers as he gingerly strokes his prostate; not too firmly, he doesn't want to come without Mac's big fat dick inside him.

"Condoms?"

Mac blushes. "Don't believe in them.  The Church says...."

"The Church?" Dennis screeches, his prostate forgotten.  "Aren't you being hypocritical?  What does your bible say about banging male prositutes?"

Mac looks untroubled.  "Dude, Jesus never said anything about guy on guy action. Plus, the big guy said  in Matthew 21:22  ' _Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you.'_ He loved hookers and anyone good enough for Jesus is fine with me."

Dennis is too weary to counter any of Mac's strange arguement but there is one thing he's sure of, that full blown AIDS isn't pretty.  He reaches for his jeans and pulls out his wallet, careful to avoid the photo of himself and Dee as he fumbles for the condoms he keeps inside.  "Gotta pay the toll if you want to get inside this boy's hole," he says firmly.

"You gotta help me get it on," Mac answers, whimpering desperately as Dennis grabs his dick.

"You've never done this?" shivers Dennis, speared and transfixed by Mac's calloused fingers, which stretch and explore like experts despite Mac's innocence.

"Banged plenty of chicks," Mac admits. "A handjob or two at the Rainbow. And **you**."

He slides atop Dennis, tasting his lips. Dennis wraps his legs around Mac's hips, urging him on.  Dennis rises up to meet the head of Mac's erection, biting his shoulder as it slides in.  

"Baby, you're so hot, so tight," moans Mac, sliding against Dennis's sweat slick belly and chest as he thrusts, shallow at first but as Dennis begins to scratch, Mac bottoms out, his furry balls slapping as he tries to please. He finds his rhythm, they find their rhythm but in only lasts a span of heartbeats before Mac grunts,  withdrawing from the trap of Dennis's  silky limbs so that he can rear up, yanking the condom off so that the bulk of his thick cream lands on belly, cock and thighs. 

He looks like an angel, Dennis thinks, not caring that he's  achingly hard and uncomfortably empty inside. Mac's a novice and so Dennis isn't  expecting  to be swalliwed down. Mac's  more eager than skilled but his mobile face grows white and dtipping with his own semen, exciting and unexpected and enough so that Dennis's semen joins the puddling cream.  Mac swallows, then chokes, ejaculate squirting from his nose like milk.  

Dennis laughs, his walls cracking more, enough to let in the light.  Mac joins him, his ear resting against Dennis's heart as he laughs, too.

*

"I'm hungry," says Mac, wiping up with his tshirt, wadding it up and tossing it into a corner hamper before leaving the room.  He returns in a minute, with two apples, a plate and a knife.  Dennis, suddenly hungry, reaches for an apple. Mac grabs it from his hand.  "No, Den!  The peel is all kinds of toxic. Give me a sec."

He pops the dvd into the player and settles back, grabbing his knife as the movie starts. Dennis is transfixed, watching Mac peel the apple in one continous piece until it's  bare. The apple slices Mac feeds him are achingly sweet but as it mixes with the salt of Mac's bare skin, Dennis falls asleep, tasting Christmas. 

<fin>

 


End file.
